[Eminem] Life handed me lemons I jumped back into the public eye and squirted lemon juice in it By now you just wish Iād fucking die but I electrify
Get electrocuted, executed by an executioner of my flow too quick for the human eye to detect zooming by Guess who, whatās happening guys? They told me to shit, I fell off that pot Hopped right back up on that crapper and I Said āfuck Itā with a capital I Look whoās back to antagonize You donāt like it? You can eat shit, fuck off little faggot and die YouĀ“re right back like a maggot on my dick grabbing at my shit, better get to the back of the line You wanna get your shot at me what kinda crap is that Battle, what kind of rapper would I be before I let another rapper think heās hot Iāll bury my face in his stinky twat and go alalalala
Girl my head space is limited, aināt even room in the back of my mind Thatās why I aināt thinking about you, I donāt got time and I told you a thousand times So how can I find the time to put an alkaline battery in Royceās back and at the same time put juice in mine? Goddamnit Slaughterhouse is signed
SLAUGHTERHOUSE
[Crooked I] Iām a menace villain, my pen is sitting spilling, my lyrics killing Then I let you witness shit when it hit the ceiling The niggas willing to give the listeners the sickest feeling
Like mixing some Benadryl and penicillin Then Iām filling the clip with a written Can you picture my pistol drilling? A million women and children when Iām illing But it isnāt real, itās a rap On the real, itās a wrap How could you possibly stop the Apocalypse When Iām atomic bombing the populous Shock the metropolis hostile as a kid Popping the Glock at his moms and his pops Then he hops in his drop with his iPod rocking the Slaughterish Documentation and lyrics I write with confidence Write like a columnist slash novelist Iām in this game to demolish, establish my dominance Over prominent rappers you popping shit till you opposite
I can spit ominous so spit politics now Iām Haile Selassie, Gandhi, and Pac of this hip hop genre, bitch
SLAUGHTERHOUSE
[Royce da 5Ā“9““] Lyrically Iām a cocaine Altoid Ability told brain itās a no brain bout boy Physically Iām literally a cocaine cowboy Wait wait, did I just go almost four bars without talking about my big dick? The other day me and your thick bitch had a great date and we ate cake And then we walked and then she tried to jack me off but she lost Cause she couldnāt handle my shake weight, wait I sweared
Irony of Ryan is I am bipolar while Iām rhyming standing beside a big old white bear Neither one of us fight fair, you are literally looking at Woody and Wesley in a movie With a white boy aināt got to jump no where cause Iām here Nigga Iām on fire yeah and Iām every bitchās dream One, two Iām coming for you, Iām a big old (big old) Nightmare! Nigga this the slaughter stepping up Iāll pretty much slap your ass and tell you to shut the fuck up After that Iāll slap your ass again and tell you to shut the fuck up shutting up And thatās how you body a fucking beat
SLAUGHTERHOUSE
[Joell Ortiz] I should be the one that goes slow Get a stopwatch, clock my flow Hit the button on top watch the drug drop O O dot dot O, Yaowa When I drop I go outer space Blackout like Darth Vaderās face Placed in a molten shower Say something and get them proper Mama poppa pouring out vodka Mama Mia, Em pass me the scissors thereĀ“s visitors in the Slaughterhouse casa Better jet boy,better jet boy G4 chrome, better jet boy Mark Sanchez, Santanio Holmes Iām not just any old homeboy Sitting in a lab picking up a pad I be spitting bad, Iāmma get you mad with this gift I have
Lord duck sufferin succatash when the trigger blast Iāmma put your beak on your fitted hat Where the liquor at? Sip of yak Bad bitch and a vicious track I relididax Sly Pro tools to boast Joe smooth I coast to the West like weāre crooked of living at New York hereās a piggyback ride to the motherland Hold on brotherman, on the other hand get down Iām gutter fam, gun butt you with the Eagle handle Cunningham I donāt wanna talk, I just wanna beef I donāt want a piece, I want it all baby boy I donāt wanna eat, I wanna feast stuff my cheeks wit raw pieces of shit You done weak, Iām the one, capiche?
SLAUGHTERHOUSE
[Joe Budden] Insane what they call us How you married to the game but you probably shouldnāt have came to the altar Every bar like propane for the sawed-off, using ? to forge you Eminem, Mr. Porter, slaughter my sentimentĀ“s imminent torture All of you feminine marauders, thatās women at war Men will assault you, TommyĀ“s and bats that resemble Lasorda Kidnap your trembling daughter, at least a quarter Iām administering supporters, got an aura more like Sodom and Gomorrah Normally somethingās wrong with me
Claiming a quantity of the porn I see on the pause to me When I fix the game theyāll think shit came with a warranty How the fuck are they gonna stop when I was born to be Corner me, shit belong to me, two choices, you can get along with me Or sit your faggot ass right there in dormancy Wait, all you missing is heels to be RuPaul Aināt nobody thatās real ever knew yāall Second to none and Iām dealing with Marshall This time I never come down, deal with the blue balls You aināt gotta fear me but youāll respect me Niggas who never met me threaten me, want to gillete me coming to a sword fight against a machete Swinging spaghetti like itās heavy some said he deserve an ESPY In a Chevy like Andretti, put the Dezzy where his chest be